


oh light of my life, brighten up my day

by manillak



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fast Food, Fluff, Jobs, M/M, These dorks, drivethrough, employee akaashi, fast food au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7327942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manillak/pseuds/manillak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> '“Welcome to Fukuro’s.”, the man greeted in a monotone voice. “May I take your order?”.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Bokuto smiled helplessly. He always had a knack for devoting himself to complete strangers.'  <i></i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>The drivethrough worker au nobody asked for</i>
  </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh light of my life, brighten up my day

**Author's Note:**

> there's a playlist of the songs Bokuto and Kuroo listened to on my 8tracks here:  
> https://8tracks.com/silence-in-the-library/hang-loose

Night in Tokyo was free and desolate, the dark sky stretching down to wind itself in between the skyscrapers and corner shops in a cobweb of dark hues. Bokuto always liked it better than the heavy weight of afternoon. Roads were empty, begging to be ridden along by purpose-seeking students; Streets were abandoned, begging to be walked by souls scarred with history.

 

Office lights and storefront signs pointillized the air, the city filled with blinking, flashing, moving neon dots in an array of colour  Bokuto could only have imagined. At home sat his essays, assignments and projects, all inching closer to their deadlines. On his desk sat his phone, the headaches and obligation in the form of homework reminders and notifications stuck there with it. Right now, Bokuto couldn't care less that he hadn't called his mother in a week. 

 

Kuroo’s presence in the driver seat next to him was like an anchor keeping him from floating away in his own thoughts. The car sped through the desolate roads, the black-haired man navigating them around hidden corners and deep paths. They were engulfed in the music booming from the stereo, floating in the steady beats and familiar melodies. 

 

Bokuto felt light. There wasn't a time where he felt more content, more at ease. Soon he'd have to go back to the trivialities of life, but for now, he was free. 

 

Lost in the music, he almost didn't notice when Kuroo’s voice broke through in an excited tone,

 

“Dude, you have to try this restaurant; The strawberry shakes are to die for.”.

 

Soon, Bokuto found himself in line at the drive through of a fast food restaurant;  _ Fukuro’s,  _ the black and yellow sign read. The car rode closer to the window, illuminated by a single tube light above it’s frame, as more people ordered. Kuroo was still talking, rambling on about how he did not know how  _ ‘fucking good the fries are, jesus christ, they’re orgasmic’. _

 

As they reached the ordering counter, Bokuto found himself being looked at expectantly by a lanky man with a mop of dark, messy curls, deep blue eyes and porcelain skin bleached white in the stark light of the tube light above him. Shadows were cast over his face, accentuating the smooth planes and detailed lines. 

 

“Welcome to Fukuro’s.”, the man greeted in a monotone voice. “May I take your order?”.

 

Bokuto smiled helplessly. He always had a knack for devoting himself to complete strangers.

 

“Hey, I’m Bokuto Koutarou!”, he hailed enthusiastically. 

 

The man blinked in reserved shock.

 

“Hello, Bokuto-san. May I take your order?”.

 

The smile didn’t slip off Bokuto’s face as he requested their fries and milkshakes. Kuroo smirked knowingly next to him as he watched the man repeat the items, type them into a register, narrate the price and point them towards the pick-up window. 

 

“Wait, can I know your name before I go?”, the words fell out of Bokuto’s mouth before any of them knew it. The employee’s eyebrows creased ever so slightly. He took a breath and exhaled it in a puff, mouth protruding in an ‘o’ shape.  _ Fucking adorable,  _ Bukoto thought at the sight.

 

“Akaashi Keiji.”, came the shyly murmured reply. The white-haired man grinned anew, wishing the man,  _ Akaashi _ , farewell.

 

Kuroo guffawed and drove to the next counter, eyebrows raised at the dreamy look on his friend’s face. 

 

“Bo, you met him for a total of like, eight seconds.”, he laughed good-heartedly.

 

Bokuto shook his head and chuckled.

 

He handed their money to the cashier, a tan and gruff looking man who grumpily growled a ‘thank you for coming’ to them before they sped off. Bokuto unearthed two or three fries from the surprisingly non-greasy paper bag and fed them to Kuroo’s awaiting open mouth. He ate one himself, moaning in delight at the delicious salty flavour and promptly finished the entire bag, along with the just as good milkshake. 

 

As they drove along the streets again, something felt different about it to Bokuto. Exploring the nooks and crannies of Tokyo became less of an escape.  _ No, _ Bokuto smiled at the new air he felt about himself.

 

_ This was the feeling of chasing a new adventure.  _

 

* * *

 

 

“Um, Bo…”, Kuroo began. “I think you have a little bit of a problem.”. To emphasize his point, he picked up a total of eleven balled-up Fukuro’s  wrappers from his friend’s apartment bedroom. 

“It's been two weeks; Exactly  _ how  _ many times have you been?”. 

Bokuto scratched the back of his sunburnt neck and turned around in his desk chair. 

“Not a lot.”, he mumbled dubiously. The single raised eyebrow he got in doubtful reply was enough to break him down. 

“Thirteen.”, he answered truthfully, head hanging limp in shame. 

_ “There are only eleven wrappers!”. _

Bokuto grinned sheepishly and wrung his fingers. 

“Maybe I went a couple times without ordering anything…”.

Kuroo huffed a laugh in disbelief. 

“Damn, you really like him, don't you?”.

Bokuto’s head swirled with thoughts of Akaashi. Their interactions, though minimal, were a strong source of happiness in Bokuto’s day whenever he went to visit. He had found out, over time, that Akaashi only worked the nightshift, from 12 to 6AM. 

_ “Aren't you tired in the mornings?”, Bokuto spluttered, astounded by the strange schedule.  _

_ “I only have university classes in the afternoon, Bokuto-san. I'm able to fit in a nap before, if I need one. Next customer please.”. His mouth hung open in awe as he rolled forward and collected his serving of fries.  _

Akaashi Keiji was a calm and collected soul, what he expected of a literature major (“ _ Japanese  _ **and** _ English!? I don’t know how you do it, Akaashi.”) _ ; Bokuto never saw him once losing his cool, not even when he had to work the morning shift straight after his own when his coworker fell sick. When he was still working the window as Bokuto came for lunch, the tired man had just tranquilly explained the situation, not a drop of abhorrence in his voice. 

_ “There's nothing I can really do about it, can I, Bokuto-san? I don't mind anyways, I get to miss class.”. The weary look in his bloodshot eyes said otherwise, but Bokuto commended his positive attitude.  _

He had very little tolerance for bullshit, which was hard to control when he had to face ignorant customers on a daily basis. 

_ “Sir, if you think our services are subpar, I’d suggest you take your car elsewhere. I'm sure the Burger King down the street would enjoy your hopping car and trashy music.”.  _

_ “Akaashi!”, Bokuto rebuked, pulling up after the (trashy as hell) car had driven away. “What if you get fired?”. _

_ Akaashi smiled, subtle, soft and sweet, enough to melt Bokuto’s heart right there in the driver’s seat.  _

_ “I'm sorry, Bokuto-san.”.  _

_ Bokuto just couldn't find words.  _

It wasn't only with others, though. Often, he found himself under the quick wit and dry sarcasm of Akaashi. It was a terrifying experience, though he really didn't mind. When some jerk bumped into his car while Bokuto had parked near a supermarket, Akaashi had simply taken one look at the dent in his bumper and told him that at his age, he really should've been responsible enough to invest in car insurance. 

But above all, Bokuto had been delightedly surprised to discover that Akaashi Keiji was a huge fucking worry-wart. 

And it was really fucking endearing. 

_ “Hello, Bokuto-san.”. _

_ “Hey, Akaashi! Just an Americano for me today, I'm late for class, but I wanted to see you first.”. _

_ Akaashi’s throat stuttered for a second before he recovered and threw Bokuto a pointed stare.  _

_ “Bokuto-san, you should really get an earlier start to ensure you're not late. You know your attendance doesn't count if you're late? Your attendance is a crucial part of your grade if you want to-”, the man interrupted his lecture to press a key on the register. “Your coffee is done. Please don't be late for class next time.”.  _

_ “But Akaaaasshhiii…”, Bokuto whined, eyebrows upturned in mock-dejection.  _

_ “That's all I'm hearing of it. Next customer, please.”. _

_ “You know, you can't block me out with the next customer comment every time, Akaashi. What if there's no one behind me one day? Then what will you do?”. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. _

_A loud and heated honk from the next car in line firmly reminded him that, now, in this moment, there_ **was** _someone behind him, and they probably had some place to be._

_ He jolted in panic and began accelerating forward at the sharp beep. As he drove to the next window, he swore he heard a dove-like laugh from the previous counter. With the gentle titter, Bokuto’s heart also fluttered in his chest, a blush creeping up to his cheeks.  _

_ ‘I'm so screwed…’, he thought to himself.  _

 

* * *

 

Bokuto nervously ran his sweaty hands down his trousers and amped up the AC. He took deep breaths to calm himself down and ran his fingers through his hair, molding the perfect urbane waves Kuroo had styled into his usual, though completely unintentional, sticking-up spikes. 

He turned the radio down as he entered Fukuro’s drive through line, three cars away from the order window. The vehicles in front of him moved out much faster than usual, and soon, Bokuto found himself in front of the counter. 

“Hello, welcome to-”, the man at the counter stopped abruptly. It was the morning shift employee who was standing there instead. He and Akaashi had probably exchanged since it was 6AM exactly. 

“Shall I get Akaashi for you?”, the silver-haired employee offered kindly. 

“Uh-yes please.”, Bokuto stuttered out. The man smiled softly and disappeared from the window, only for Akaashi to replace him a second later. He was wearing a black  t-shirt with a wide collar instead of his usual white and yellow uniform polo. His prominent collarbones were visible in the oversized top and Bokuto felt a twinge of longing. 

“Hey, Akaashi, your shift is over right?”. The man nodded. 

“Want to go get some breakfast with me?”.

The question halted in the air, a stunned silence drifting in between them. Bokuto almost drove away in horror before the answer came. 

“Of course, Bokuto-san.”.

Light beamed down on him. Happiness exploded in his chest. The heavens had opened up for Bokuto. 

* * *

The moment he saw Akaashi emerging from the backdoor of Fukuro’s, Bokuto immediately straightened from leaning on his car and waved enthusiastically. Akaashi looked down shyly, what seemed to be a blush creeping up his face.

_ ‘Jesus Christ, he’s fit’,  _ Bokuto caught himself thinking, having never seen the man further than the order window allowed.

As the man approached, Bokuto rushed over to the other side of the car and opened the door in invitation. Akaashi halted in front of the awaiting seat and crossed his hands. His face was stern but playful, emotions barely noticeable under his cool demeanor. 

“I’ve only met you through the drive through, you know. You could be kidnapping me right now.”.

Bokuto grinned. 

“It's a shame, there was this really good pancake place I wanted to try with you.”. He shrugged, feigning mournfulness. 

Akaashi’s lips thinned, holding back a smile, before he accepted Bokuto’s invitation and sat in the car. Bokuto thanked god he had remembered to clean his car as he sat in the driver’s seat and started up the engine. 

“Ready to go?”, he piped, pulling out of the parking space. 

“Let's go.”, Akaashi returned, and Bokuto swore he saw something joyful and light twinkling in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

The sun was almost at it’s midpoint in the sky when Bokuto exited the car to drop Akaashi at his apartment. They took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor, ambling down the hallways leisurely. Bokuto didn't want to rush the time they had. 

They reached his door, Akaashi pulling up his keys to unlock it. 

“Hey, Akaashi.”.

He looked up at Bokuto, eyes questioning. 

“I really enjoyed today.”, and Bokuto couldn't stop smiling as he said it. 

“I did too, Bokuto-san. Thank you.”, and Akaashi really meant it. 

“Is there-”, Bokuto grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is there any chance I can see you again?”.

Akaashi huffed gently. 

“Bokuto-san, I think we both know you're going to show up at the drivethrough again tomorrow.”. 

He laughed delightedly, each chuckle felt in his heart. 

“I, uh-”, his eyes crinkled in a smile. “I meant, like this.”.

Akaashi turned to enter his apartment, leaning on the door. He stared up into his eyes, the gaze deep. 

Taking a deep breath and twisting his lips up, Akaashi nodded slowly. 

He leaned up on his toes, just to reach the extra inch. Before Bokuto knew what was happening, he felt warmth and soft lips on his cheek, spreading into his heart; And then he was gone with a final, “I'll see you later, Bokuto-san.”.

And Bokuto felt taken apart. 

 

* * *

 

The next day, Bokuto entered the drivethrough, chatting animatedly with Kuroo. When they reached the window, his enthusiastic, ‘Hey, hey, Akaashi!’ was returned with the fond, ‘Hello, Bokuto-san.’. He introduced Kuroo with a sharp jab in the ribs- that he hoped Akaashi didn't see- which indicated him not to fuck this up. He ordered his burger and milkshake and drove to the next window. 

It was a normal day for Bokuto. 

But when he opened the paper bag in his lap and pulled out his burger, his heart fluttered in his chest. He could hear Kuroo’s amused chuckled next to him and his congratulatory, ‘I'm happy for you, man’, but Bokuto could say nothing. 

Because in his hands, written neatly on a napkin laid on top of the burger wrapper, was a neat row of numbers and tiny scrawl of ‘-Akaashi’. 

  
  


 

 


End file.
